Ugly 1 Part 6

Ugly goes under the covers ...... maybe he likes his Vodka Martinis, shaken, not stirred.

Is that a PPK I see there? Nope, its only Walther.

Please come in to my parlour then.......

6

If someone tell me I have to fight with my hands on a close combat situation, that to me is like throwing my gloves and helmet at the other pilot. Or a wrench if I could reach it. Now I am in need of one. And it all because I questioned the loose nut in my ammo box. Its a fair question to asked considering that my life depends on it. Or shall I say the whole nut and bolts on this craft determined my craft works well, or I am dead out there. Main Tech, Sargeant McGraw was a no nonsense man and he tolerate none from pilots or his techs. A loose nut to him is like having a lunatic running starkers on his shift. He took my complaint and inspected the works. And he then blew his comms with enough saliva to drown a beetle.

The fault was a Senior Tech Anderson, newly transferred from Transport, and he was frantic for excuses when asked. That irks the Main Tech and he is not happy. His tirade of words to followed could make my mum jumped off the bridge, but poor Anderson took it all. I was given the McGraw stamp of assurance that this will not be repeated. I was glad that was over, as I felt embarassed raising it to the Main Tech, when I could had spoken directly to Anderson. I got the cold treatment from Tech that week, and for once I was glad I did not fly missions.

I offered an apology to Anderson but he shrugged it off, so that squares things in my book, no apologies required. I went back into my routine and double checked my craft when I was flying. And that is also my routine. It was my third flight after the incident, that I got my first problem; the navigation system was not loaded with the proper maps. I took it up with the Tech and was given an assurance of not happening again. The next problem I had was my I almost flew with my fuel line attached. Again I was given the assurance, but the vibes in the landing bay said I screwed it up; flying without confirmation. I was not ready for the third problem, so I had my man under surveillance.

I had him followed by some old pals of mine from Intel, and did some background checks too. He turned up clean, or too clean for my liking. I noticed a trend in his leisure hours; he plays the BAT’s game on the cue at cetain hour and with no one. He will play on his own in the training room where we can try our skills out. He is sometimes the pitcher or the batter. But he never played in a team event or against any opponents.

It occured to me only when Team Wilddogs came in from their patrol. I overhead their conversation in the landing bay;’ we been batter like in the game of BATs. They knew our game plan and taken all the outfields position. Their damn leader seem to know where to lead us to. I felt like in a bad BATs game.’

I checked the log and found Anderson was the tech on the roster. And he was the Navigation System Technician. And Nav updates are done when the squad takes it on to study and know their roles. And this was day or half a day before we fly. I checked his records and most time he is on Nav, the squad gets ambushed. It may be a coincidence or conspiracy. I got him on my next mission; fed him our Nav routes and positioning the day before. When we took flight, I changed the Nav coordinates.

And we took four Lions napping on the quadrant. And one Technician was missing from his station. I told McGraw of my suspicions, but we decided to keep it in wrap. We went looking for Anderson separately; me to the NAV and he to the TECH.

I found him in Navigation Section, Section 24 Level 5, next to the console accessing our fleet locations. The onduty Technician was on the floor with a bleeding hairline.

‘Anderson, I know who you are. Give up before I called in Security.’ Anderson looked at me keying in the console. I think he is accessing the system and downloading or transmitting it. I can see it on the wall screens and they looked like maps. I reached for my PK-235 as I was still in my flight uniform. I aimed at him with both my hands on the hilt of the gun. Its going to be one shot and I cannot afford to miss.

Next thing I know was the pain at the back of my right shoulder. It caused me to drop my gun and I went down on my knees. I tried to get up but when I felt the cold muzzle on my neck. I stopped trying.

‘Get it done quick, or he dies now’, that was McGraw’s voice. Why is Main here? Is he working with Anderson? It can’t be. He’s been with us for so long. McGraw is the man which we put our live on the craft. Then I remembered my mini screwdriver, courtesy of some pilots for my training in combat skills. I kept it in my pant’s right side pocket for those fine tuning works on certain loose screws or rivets. It happens and is handy at those times.

‘Main, you got my family. Let him go, he is not involved.’ Anderson pleading with the man with the gun.

‘He is in now. He should not had put nose into the log’s. I set this trap so I can quit this charade. I told him to go to NAV. I brought you here too. Its all that simple; you shot him before he killed you. Then he died.’ I loved these Techs, they worked on logical assumptions with little rooms for error. Not me, I am work on no assumptions but on the cue. I turned my body and jabbed the mini screwdriver in his upper thigh with my left hand. McGraw cried out in pain and pulled the trigger, but I was jumping to my right after I jabbed him. I know that reaction will come and done my own risk of jumping the opposite direction. I fell on my right shoulder and it hurted a lot. I turned my body to faced McGraw but he is in a tussle now with Anderson. The NAV Tech must had used the diversion to attack McGraw. They are in a grappling tussle now, and McGraw looked to be the better of the two. McGraw managed to swing his left leg behind the Anderson’s legs causing him to trip backwards. Both men landed on the floor next to me, but Anderson got knocked on the head on the console side hard metal; and he let go of his opponent. He is dazed by the knock while McGraw got up slowly from the soft fall on Anderson.

That was when I wished I had a wrench or something to throw at the Main. I was sitting partially up and then I saw the  PK-235 at my feet. I reached for it and took a shot at McGraw. I don’t know if I got him or not, but he sure got me in the left shoulder on the front. This time I went blank in sight and consciousness.

‘Ian, you are only good at your cannons. You are hopeless at other things. You never could shoot straight with your rifle or your handgun.’

I looked at Cecilia and smiled. I know of my weakness with the held weapons which is why I did not join the Marines. If I did, I would be in a cubicle punching numbers and pressing levels. I failed my weapons training or barely passed some. The instructor told I am a ‘failure’ in their view. So I opt for flying with the cannons lined up with tracers, so I cannot missed.

‘You telling me I am shooting blanks?’ I reached for her but she got up from the bedding faster than I can catch her. Her naked body can put all my sensors to full alert, but this time they will go to standby mode. She just threw me my PK-235 onto the bedding.

‘We going to get you to shoot straight. You may never know when you needed it.’ So we did from that day, a series of target practice to sharpen my handgun skills. From a ‘failure’, I became a ‘one out of three’ expert. He taught me well, and I am dedicated to her training. Its not like having an instructor howling at your ears and covering your cheeks with their saliva. This is close intimate training, like how you stand and shoot or shoot and then peck at the cheek.

‘Commander Ian Stone, you done the Carrier One proud. You stopped the spy from transmitting the NAV maps, thus saving the fleet. You are given the Silver Badge of Courage.’ So I did get another one, to add  to my collection in the box. They may sell for some credits at some outpost.

NAV was not too happy with me though. I did saved Anderson and his family was rescued from the cell they were kept in at the secluded TECH’s storage. He was held under duress to do the works. The Mcgraw I shot at in the forehead turned out to be a fake. He is an enemy spy in disguise. They found McGraw with the Anderson families. The fake McGraw was with us for some time and we did not know. Since that day, a witchhunt was conducted for more ‘fakes’ but we found none. I guess they never tried hard enough or they would had discovered the Admiral’s set of wigs in his quarter.

They did not return my mini screwdriver to me; but TECH did give me a mini tool set complete with diagnostic sensors for replacement. And I still re-checked my craft before I fly.

I woke up from my hard earned sleep when the alarm went off. I reached for my remote switch to shut off the damn noise, but then I realised its the Carrier Alarm. That is a Red Alert call, and that means trouble. Well, at least in the last twelve times it rang today. I jumped out my bedding and zipped up my flight suit. I ran down the corridor and jumped into the Tube. In a glimpse I am at Cecilia side and checking her underbelly. She took a bad landing the last time I came in.

‘She will be fine, Commander. I checked her myself.’

‘Thanks, Main. I am ready to go then.’

I climbed into the cockpit and strapped in. Then I logged in with Command, that I am ready. And now I wait like the rest of the crew. These alerts has been on for the last day and of the twelve calls, we only flew five times, and we came back empty. There is someting out there but we are not seeing it. NOS did work and our visual did not see anything except dark space. Then the call to go back to Yellow was heard. I was climbing out when I got one Technician asking me to report to Launch Bay 05. I dragged myself there, watching crewmen and pilots like myself also dragging their feets around.

Bay 05 was near the end of the launching ay and is normally used for Transport or unloading. There I was met by a Lieutenant with two burly marines.

‘These are your orders and you may the transporter here.’ I complained of the need to change but I was told that is all not needed. I am to fly the transporter and the coordinates are feeded into it. Before I could say ‘bathroom’, I was in open space with the Carrier One at my stern. And the mission notes was in it too, and I am screwed from Command to Tech.

It was not long after my ‘jump’ that I came to see my destination. 

Its a flourishing planet with the circumferance of 22,007 kilometres, and twenty five cities on its surface. The rest are acrid land and hostile environment. Beneath it all, are the mines with minerals that ranked top ten in the known system. Its called a Mining World or Dying One depends on which end of your beliefs lies. Its known population are one hundred thousand over, but there are double of that of illegals and unregistered. But who is paying attention when the tunnels needs them. Some will never see the surface from the moment they land to their departure. The planet is governed by the Empire, and no other universe powers wants to fight over it for the rights. They only attack the vessels which leaves the place with the loads; thats easier to handle than a well defended planet this size. So there are more than a dozen sanctioned pirates here plus the non-sanctioned ones. On an average 60% of the loads get hijacked or go missing. The balance gets to the open market and sold at the controlled credits.But its credits to the Empire as the transporters are not theirs.

The Empire focus their strength in City One where the main interstellar port is located whrre they have the main defences setup for any attack. They have and not concern on the rest of the other twenty four cities built and managed by the other inhabitants as long as you do not have a interstellar space port. But among scumbags and pirates are also smugglers who get small supplies out on their inter planet vessels without the knowledge of the Empire. Or with their knowledge covered in unrecorded credits.  

I am not here to investigate that. I am here to replace McGraw or present myself as McGraw if need be. Intel picked up this comms for McGraw and it said for him to report to this place. Its a stupid plan, but its the Admiral’s one, so you just comply. Just like those ‘Red Alert’ which is a series of drills to see our readiness. And also to divert the attention of the crew when I sneaked away.

Here I am; in front of a commercial unit on Red Block 5, City Four. The unit sign says; ‘All Seeing Eye’ and I am walking in. Its a darkly lit interior with some strobe lights dancing on the far side wall, and it reeks of illegal herbs and faeces. I feel like I am in the Brig with a drunkard, but the aroma changed immediately and coming towards me was a lady dressed scantily, walking seductively to me, but she could had done better with less weight on her body mass.

‘Pardon that, we just entertained a gentleman from Trigan IV, and he is recounting his early age. How may I assit you, Terran?’ The place now smells of lilac and clear waters, and its brightly lit up. I see myself in a cubicle with table seating for two person. My host motioned me to take a seat and she seated opposite me. She asked for my hands to hold, but I hand her the comms message chip.

‘McGraw cannot make it. He told me to wait for your signal and come. Here I am. I am also told to collect my credits and leave this here.’ I handed her the Memory chip with details of the maps from Carrier One.

My host took the chip and closed her eyes. Then she opened her eyes and stared at me. She smiled at me and then the chair became my prison, when metal bars automatically appeared to clasp my arms and my waist.

‘Thank you.’ She said it and got up to leave the room. I struggled against my clamps but it was no use. I shouted about my credits but she has left the cubicle. And the earlier smell of the herbs and faeces came back. I tried not to breathe but I can’t helped it. Then he turned up, a tall sinister looking person dressed in the business suit of dark colors and red shoes. He also wears a tall hat that makes him looked more taller. He carries a dark cane and when I saw his smile, I knew why he likes red shoes.

‘McGraw’s friend, I presume. So is he in the Brig or ejected capsule into space? Your name and rank will suffice. And your demands can be considered. You would considered ours? But right now, you get to sleep.’ I don’t know what they do to me, but I was out by the next moment.

‘Ian, at times your demands are unreasonable. You want me to fly recon while you still do combat? Who is going to be your Wingman? Jeezball? Red Head? Or Bully Beef?’ All I suggested to Cecilia was she take a break for a while, as she was not feeling good. She’s been hopping to the wash cubicle and looked green on some days. So I told her run to the Infirmary, and get some checks. She may be required to rest and I will fly with some others. That triggered off my arguement and she packed off.

I had search the whole fragging Carrier One and she cannot be found. I searched every airlock in case she decides to stay in one with her thumb over the release button. But she is not there. It was Red Drag who told me.

I rushed over to the Infirmary, and found her in the last bed at the end of the corridor. Its marked ‘contagious/isolation mandatory’. I was not into her tricks, so I ripped the screen away and saw my baby crying at her bed. I held her and calmed her down. She stayed on for another week, before they allowed her to go back to her bunk to rest. All this time, I was with her when I am not flying or on ground duty.

And when we got together, we will just hold each other hands or sleep with me cuddling her. We never spoke of the incident, even though I still reached for her lower abdomen to caress her there. It should had been time now for her give birth if she had told me. But that will mean six months of non-flying duty and two years of ground duty. No mothers are allowed to fly after giving birth for two years. I guessed my dream as a father is delayed for now. Or maybe forever, as she never showed me the medical report.

‘Wake up, Commander Ian. Time for your chat time’. And we did; me and three bullies who just likes to add pains to every questions. By the time they asked for my mother’s name, she wouldn’t recognise me for the bruises on my face. But I passed their test of pain.

‘He is on par. We checked and confirmed he was last with our McGraw. And he does consult our McGraw on things. There was some personal comms between the two before our McGraw died.’ One of my tormentors did their homework well. Those were planted comms by Intel with imaginative words.

‘So Ugly Darkling is not with the others, but likes to play loner. Guess thats how you hooked onto McGraw. He’s a loner too, and in his game, he has to be.’ Sinister Tall has it worked out as according to profile. He sat down in front of me, but he has to bend his legs forward to sit.

‘you.... seven or eight ....feet?’ I mumbled through my swollen lips.

‘Its eight, and two inches. I am named Mr Tall, and I am McGraw’s agent. I handle all his needed acts and I get paid for his apperance. You took my star away, and now I am looking at one.’ He raised his cane to prod my painful chest.

‘Me...? I... am a com..bat pilot. I only want...my credits’. Its true as they would had seen my debts records with the boys in the laundry room; its been added on with persuasive dealings. Mr Tall then recited my profile from my early years to now, missing quite a bit on Cecilia; guess she is not on record. Then his cane touched the right cheek at my face, pushing me to face him. ‘You will be my next star.’

It took three days for me to recover with delicate ministration by a young nurse who also reads me nice words from her book of feelings. I did my recovery and kept an eye on the going around; which there is nothing much I can only see from my room which is like the one Cecilia was in; nothing at all but sounds of going on outside screen.. But soon the screen came down and I see myself in a large rectangular hall, with many crates and people. Some of the crates are opened to show weapons and ammo.

That when Mr Tall came over to see me.

‘You have the rare opportunity to see the trading room. We are weapon traders and we strive on conflicts. We will be there to give all the needed support for the correct credits. That is why we need those maps of your fleet so that we know where to avoid in our deliveries. You credits has been transferred to your name in a remote financial network, and the details are here. No one will traced it to you. Now we asked you the final time, do you want to be my new star?’

I said yes, but I am a combat pilot.

Mr Tall said no problem there. We have a job for you. In three hours, I was in my own flight suit and soon in the cockpit of a Scimitar, and asked to fly her in the combat situation. There is a buyer in the tower to see me fly her. I did fly her and did all the tricks in the book; I even flew close to the Tower to see Mr Tall waved at me. I also see the other person standing next to him. I did a tight turn and came towards the Tower to pull up at the last moment. That drew applause from the duo, and I did my next turn again. This time I pulled the eject button to be thrown out. The Scimitar crashed into the Tower and took off its observation podium. As for me, I am floating down in my parachute towards ground, and I reached for the pen still in the side pocket. They did not removed it as its a pen. I pull the cover off and send off the coordinates.

Within minutes of my landing, the place was covered with Scimitar and 350Alpha; while the former do sweeps around the base, the later was lowering Marines by winches to the surface. About a hundred marines took the place and removed fifty five hostiles with three in capture. We scoop up the operation in an hour and left a conventional warhead to make a big hole. The network of Mr Tall was crippled and his cache of weapon confiscated. The Empire protested of our raid, but they never did more than a diplomatic letter to state their concerns.

As for me, I had three bullies locked in the Airlock at Bay 05 for a few days. We just did a few routine training on how to react if the Airlock is open by mistake. The trainees are the three bullies. And sadly they survivied.

And I forgot to tell Command of my secret account. But I did good; I lost it all at the tables with the crew who was playing on behalf of the Scimitar Widow’s Club.

Guess, I am bad card player.

and have a nice weekend......